


Enough to be happy

by Tigresse



Series: JohnLock Sherlock BBCverse - Romance and Sex [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigresse/pseuds/Tigresse
Summary: Sherlock is in one of his unsettled, restless phases and John knows exactly how to take care of him.





	Enough to be happy

John looked at his partner and immediately knew what he needed. “Is it one of those days?” He asked, studying the unusually quiet and still man.

 

“Yeah. It’s slowly getting noisy in my head.”

 

John knew that situation had to be avoided at all costs. Sherlock was a brilliant man whose exceptional intellect made him extremely lonely and isolated. Aside from John, he had no friend who was close enough or insightful enough to truly understand him. And even then, John was not his intellectual equal and when Sherlock went through his dry spells, when he didn’t have a great case to work on and, in his own words, his ‘brain had started to rot and rust’, the doctor found it hard to keep his lover motivated and interested in the world around him. Almost always such spells ended with one of the three things.

 

If they were very lucky the detective got some exceptional case which promptly brought him back to his ‘playground’ and engaged his brain in a rather positive way. The boredom and frustration melted and Sherlock was himself again. If they were not so lucky he would end up using and enter rehab. This would mean a month’s separation between them and that had happened twice in three years. On some rare occasions Sherlock ended up having a meltdown and it always scared the shit out of John to see his partner do crazy stuff like pick a fight with three huge men, jump off the second floor to see if he could survive or run across the street while vehicles were zooming past.

 

“Come on love,” John grabbed his elbow, “Let me distract you for a while.”

 

This was the fourth way to shake Sherlock out of his ‘brain-episode’. A marathon, life-changing, bone-shattering, hormone-stoking, bout of sex.

 

“Will it work?” Sherlock asked.

 

“Hasn’t it always?” John questioned.

 

“What if it doesn’t?”

 

“It will. No need to worry about the ‘what it’ part. This is fail-proof.”

 

Sherlock walked slowly to the bedroom and let out a soft breath as John’s arms encircled his waist and John kissed the back of his neck. “It seems like something heavy is glued to my head,” he confessed, “I just woke up with it last week and thought it would go soon. It didn’t.”

 

“The next time,” John suggested, “Don’t wait for days. Tell me the moment it starts.”

 

***

 

Sherlock stretched out luxuriantly like a cat on a thick rug, naked and all white limbs and firm muscles, the thatch of his dark pubic hair contrasting sharply against the pale skin of his smooth shapely thighs.

 

“You’re quite a sight to sore eyes,” John hovered over him like a predator, keeping his voice gentle but possessive. He knew Sherlock liked that.

 

Almond shaped green eyes looked at him and bow lips parted, a hint of pink tongue showing as he wetted his lips. John felt his dick jerk in his pants but ignored it for now. This was the time to appreciate and pamper Sherlock, not to think about his own needs. “I don’t say this often but that doesn’t mean I don’t see it or feel it,” John stripped down to his undershorts and started to nose, nuzzle and nip at Sherlock’s skin, “You are too beautiful to be real my darling. The day I met you for the first time, at Barts, I thanked God and Mike Stamford at the same time. To God I was thankful because He had put Mike Stamford in my way after a long time and to Mike I was thankful because he had introduced me promptly to William Sherlock Scot Holmes.”

 

Sherlock’s cock had started to stir to life as John licked at the tip of the detective’s hard long member. The taller man began to make small pumping thrusts of his hips, the deep sadness in those eyes slowly showing cracks and fissures. He was perking up, which was good. Without warning, John suddenly swallowed over half of Jim’s cock and the answering groan and gasp from his lover told him he had struck gold.

 

“Oh-hh,” Sherlock almost sat up, placing his hand at the back of John’s head to keep him there, “Ahh-yaaah.”

 

John bobbed his head up and down and sucked him hard. Soon he felt Sherlock’s body begin to tense up. He was tempted to go for the real thing but per their rules and what worked for the best, he knew he had to milk Sherlock first. That, or the detective would shoot at the first nudge to his hole from the blunt head of John’s thick cock.

 

“Ahnnn,” Sherlock’s pupils dilated, his mouth fell open, and he began to raise his hips and fuck the smaller man’s mouth.

 

John relaxed his throat. Sherlock’s cock slid further in.

 

“Jesus Christ,” the detective swore, head falling back on the pillow as he surrendered to his immense desire to shoot his load. Doing that in John’s hot mouth was the next thing to experiencing Heaven.

 

John inserted his middle finger into his mouth, right next to his lover’s cock, and wetted it thoroughly. Next he brought his hand down and breached Sherlock’s small tight hole.

 

Hot semen filled his mouth as Sherlock came instantly, hips jerking hard as burst after burst of seed escaped his cock and flooded John’s mouth. He had come so hard that John had to withdraw after a while, otherwise he was in the danger of choking.

 

When he let go of the still hard member with a wet pop, he caught a glimpse of Sherlock staring at him lustfully. “Will you….I mean if you want…..kiss me with that mouth?” Sherlock asked, “I am…..I want to know how it…..uh…..?”

 

John chuckled, “I don’t have another mouth to kiss you baby.” He saw a look of playfulness appear in Sherlock’s eyes before the pupils again dilated with lust, as John’s lips touched Sherlock’s bow shaped buds. John lost himself in the kiss immediately, like he always did whenever he kissed Sherlock. Sherlock’s lips were so soft, softer than any woman’s, smooth and full like a juicy ripe fruit. Though an inexperienced kisser, Sherlock was also a quick learner and allowed John to take the lead before slowly dominating the kiss while submitting to it at the same time.

 

Only Sherlock Holmes could do that! He could be on the opposite poles of behavior at the same time and pull it off convincingly, emphatically.

 

John felt those lips part and allow him access into the moist mouth that was flavored by cigarettes, tea and a natural sweetness that he had always discovered on Sherlock’s tongue. He often wondered how a man who spewed out acid while deducing someone or giving the facts of a case could actually have an element of delicate sweetness in his kisses, the quintessential quality of an angel. But who was he to complain when he enjoyed it so much!

 

Their tongues started to rub together and Sherlock’s eyes fluttered shut. He moaned and raised his hips, slutty and innocent at the same time, once again acting on opposite ends of the spectrum and enticing John with his rare, contradictory qualities.

 

John felt his heartbeat speed up. He was an alpha male. Brave, tough, adventure-loving, risk-taking, confident, self-assured, testosterone enabled John. Given a chance he would throw Sherlock on the bed and take him rough and randy, and he did do that once in a while, but knowing how sensitive and whimsical his partner was, he indulged him with varying displays of affection.

 

Today was the time to go slow, experimental, easy, yet utterly fulfilling and draining by the end.

 

Sherlock moaned again, his legs parting and allowing John to settle between them.

 

Their kiss continued and Sherlock slowly began to take over, demanding more, needing more, taking more, more, more till John felt powerful and powerless at the same time. This was the point when he became something similar to his lover, experiencing and displaying opposing behaviors or qualities at the same moment. That was the power Sherlock had over him, molding him into something similar to himself, to become two halves of a common globe, mutually complimentary and fitting exactly into each other’s slots.

 

He felt like laughing. This thought, if translated into action, was a sexual innuendo.

 

Suddenly he felt a change in Sherlock’s disposition and breathing pattern. From willing submission it had changed to forced submission and the detective appeared to be struggling to remain still. At first, he was reluctant to break the kiss, such was his enjoyment and addiction to it, but when he noticed Sherlock’s eyeballs moving rapidly underneath the closed eyelids and his chest heaving alarmingly he was forced to break apart and stare down at the younger man with some concern. “Sherlock what the…..oh my God, breathe man breathe, you are one crazy crackpot,” he huffed, giving his lover some air, “I swear, you can be such a……child at times.”

 

Sherlock had turned blue from lack of air and was now drawing huge gulping breaths of oxygen.

 

“Never do this to yourself, or me, again,” John scolded gently, kissing him chastely on the tip of his nose.

 

Sherlock slowly began to breathe easy again. His cheeks were slightly flushed and he stared in awe at John and mumbled ‘sorry, but I liked it, so…..’

 

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” John assured, “The kiss isn’t going anywhere.”

 

“Then shut up and kiss me again.”

 

“Gladly.”

 

John kissed him soundly but this time he stopped after a few minutes to check on his lover. Sherlock was lost in passion by now and, knowing him very well, John knew it was time to move to the next stage. He kissed and sucked at the man’s prominent Adam’s apple before proceeding downwards till he was once again level with Sherlock’s groin area. “I love this thatch,” he said, kissing the damp, downy mane there which smelled of sex and musk and a unique scent Sherlock emitted. It was pleasant, spicy and very enticing.

 

“Mmmmhhh?”

 

That was a nonverbal question. John nodded, “Okay.”

 

He climbed up Sherlock’s body and guided the tip of his cock into the hot mouth. Although he had military training, did regular workouts, meditated often to keep his mind, thoughts and desires under control, John was unsure if he would be able to really hold himself back.

 

Especially with that mouth, that hot and clumsy but oh-so-delicious mouth!

 

Sherlock suckled noisily, letting John slide in deeper and deeper. At one point John looked down and realized immediately that he had made a mistake. Seeing that luscious mouth stretched around his impressive girth was such a turn on that…..

 

_No, no, I can’t come now, it would ruin the whole thing, it would reduce our lovemaking to a mere session of sexual passion. This has to be more than that, this has to be one of those times when he tests my control and I enjoy being tested._

 

He quickly and desperately diverted his thoughts to a few complex cases, to a difficult and rude patient, a rather bad experience he had had in the army, his unstable relationship with his parents, imagining the rude and silly Phil Andersen stark naked….yes it worked, it worked for John and he was able to control his urge to shoot. The utter need to come receded and slowly became a niggling tingle at his tailbone with an occasional bolt to his groin. Yes, he could handle that much! With a sigh of great relief he avoided embarrassment and just concentrated on enjoying the slippery slide of his cock against Sherlock’s saliva coated lips and tongue. It was so very exquisite!

 

But even for a man of his controls, this was too much, way too much.

 

“Stop,” he cried out after a while.

 

The mouth was removed from his cock. He missed it immediately.

 

“Jawn.”

 

“Yes love, yes, we will.”

 

He reached for the lube and coated his fingers. Sherlock was about to roll over but John stopped him, tapping him on his thighs instead. Green eyes looked at him in confusion and John winked, “Pull them up.”

 

“I will look ridiculous.”

 

“No, you won’t. Just do it babe.”

 

“Jawn…..”

 

“Nothing you do or look like can ever be ridiculous. You are beautiful.”

 

_A beauty like Sherlock needs constant reassurance._

 

John remembered Mike Stamford’s words. His friend, the bridge that had connected him with his Sherlock, knew about their relationship and often spoke to John about it. He never offered advice unless explicitly asked and John had asked him just once, ‘Why is he insecure, he is a freaking genius and can have anybody he wants. In fact, I know many women and some men who would have him in a heartbeat’.

 

Mike had told him about the need for constant reassurance and added _‘Many want him but he wants only you’_.

 

A warm feeling spreading in his chest, he took in the sight of Sherlock lying there with his legs pulled up and his most private, treasured part exposed. John bent down and kissed the twitching hole which quivered under the touch of his lips. A moan escaped the curly haired man and he saw the stiffening cock jerk against the flat stomach. Sherlock was ready for round two, well and truly. He massaged the opening with the lube coated pads of his fingers and slowly breached it, pushing in the tip of his index finger. Sherlock tensed for a moment before relaxing and welcoming the digit in. John moved it in and out and his lover mewled, hips jerking as sensations began to travel through him.

 

“Yes love, that’s it, I will add one more now.”

 

“Uhnnnn.”

 

“Yes, that’s it, let me in, open up for me love.”

 

“Ohhhhh.”

 

While aroused, Sherlock’s voice grew thinner, hoarse, it wavered between a sudden streak of baritone and a whiny sweetness right after. It was music to John’s ears and the doctor quickly added a third finger to the mix. He knew he was big and to get Sherlock properly ready he needed at least four of his digits in, comfortably, totally. “You are doing well baby,” he encouraged, “Just like that, relax and feel what I’m doing to you, opening you up slowly, yes, yes just like that!”

 

Sherlock groaned and threw an arm over his eyes, as if blocking it all out. He was embarrassed easily in bed and the ‘constant reassurance’ advice came back to John. He started to praise Sherlock, spoke about how sensuous he was, how he turned John on with a mere look and so on and so forth. Slowly the arm was removed and Sherlock began to writhe hard, allowing himself to enjoy the moment.

 

“Jawn….can you…..do it……now?”

 

John pulled his fingers out and gave the now widened hole a parting kiss.

 

“I….I feel so empty,” Sherlock whined.

 

“I’ll fill you up babe, just a moment.”

 

He slathered lube over his cock and then latched his mouth on to a sensitive spot behind Sherlock’s right ear, then slowly introduced his engorged penis into the welcoming passage, the heat and tightness overwhelming him temporarily. He held still, biting down on his lip to regain some control over his body again. Sherlock was moving restlessly beneath him, trying to get him in deeper, trying to make him move, trying his best to get some friction to his once again rock-hard erection.

 

Sherlock’s impatience was cute…..and hot!

 

John slowly started to slide in deeper and deeper. He was quite impressive down there and the first time they had done it Sherlock had been worried that John would damage his insides due to his length. It had taken all of John’s self-controls to not start laughing at that point. A man who was never baffled by any mystery, never overwhelmed by any experience, never afraid of anything, was so blissfully innocent about matters related to conjugal life. John had, since then, taken charge of the poor darling and led their lovemaking like a lover, a caregiver, a protector, an admirer, a worshipper, a follower. He had donned many roles, just to make Sherlock feel like the most adored and loved person in the world.

 

Well, _Sherlock was the most adored and loved person in the world_ , at least for John Hamish Watson.

 

He began to move and Sherlock’s entire body jerked.

 

“Oh-Oh!”

 

“Yes, I found it, right there!”

 

“Nnhhhhh!”

 

“Want me to do it again?”

 

“Y-Yeah, do it again.”

 

John thrust in at the same angle and felt Sherlock get closer to his orgasm. His thighs tightened around John’s hips, his cock started leaking hard between their bodies and tremors ran up and down in his long slender shapely arms as he clung to John in anticipation.

 

John thrust in hard a few more times and Sherlock erupted. It was a loud eruption of cries as well as a profuse eruption of semen from his cock. Not even a touch was needed, John noted with immense satisfaction.

 

Once the wild cries had subsided, John resumed thrusting hard and fast.

 

At first an oversensitive Sherlock protested so John gave him the comfort of being in control, albeit for a little while. He reversed their positions in a smooth and sudden move, drawing a surprised yelp from his lover. Sherlock found himself sitting astride John, feeling the latter’s thick engorged muscle even more in this position. Their eyes locked, their moans went hand in hand, as did their breathing pattern. With every inhale from John Sherlock drew in breath, with every exhale from the older man Sherlock let out a shuddering and long breath.

 

“Jawn,” Sherlock said breathily, “I feel it again.”

 

“Yes and you will cum again, all over me, this time you’ll cum all over me the moment you feel me fill you up,” John said with a wicked grin. He knew Sherlock’s energies were low after two orgasms but a third one was still very much possible, he only needed to double the effort, give him time and then supplement it with some dirty talk. It scandalized Sherlock when he spoke like this, John the gentleman, John the sophisticated doctor speaking like a potty-mouth pimp! But the more scandalized he got, the more aroused he became. As John kept talking, praising Sherlock’s arse, how tight and hot it was, how pretty his cock was, how good he looked when he was nude and debauched, Sherlock’s flagging erection started to wake up again.

 

John was fast approaching his own orgasm and this time he knew the release couldn’t be stopped. He had fought it off for almost an hour and watched his sexy partner cum twice. Now he needed to give in to the bliss of orgasm, of a much-awaited release, of ecstasy.

 

But first Sherlock had to cum for the third time. This was the unspoken agreement during their marathon sex sessions. Sherlock wanted John to be the one in control, in every possible way. He would lead the way, control it all, show Sherlock the best of times and yet control his urges till a point arrived when Sherlock couldn’t go on any more.

 

As his gorgeous lover began to shake all over, jerking himself desperately and trying for that orgasm he so badly needed but was unable to reach, John once again switched their positions.

 

Sherlock wailed out loud as he lay on his back, his head towards the footboard of the bed and John hovering over him and pounding into him like a possessed beast. He reached up and pulled the older man down for a kiss, then guided one of John’s hands to his dick.

 

John fucked him hard and jerked him at the same time, something he was able to do rather miraculously. Earlier he would get so lost in his own pleasures that his hand would slow down on his partner but since his first time with Sherlock he had discovered different powers within himself. Now he could multi task during sex, concentrate on Sherlock even while taking care of his own needs. He felt like superman.

 

Sherlock came, wailing loudly, and passed out from sheer exhaustion.

 

John grunted, let out a bellow of Sherlock’s name and came and came and came. His orgasm felt endless and relentless and his lungs burned from the need to breathe. Yet he couldn’t draw in air as he felt extreme pleasure and massive tremors pass through his body. Somehow he went through it without dying, which was what he feared he would with the way his body had coiled up and let go of all normal functions. An ocean of seed poured out of him and flooded Sherlock’s channel and when he finally pulled out, he found the sleeping man’s hole, perineum and buttocks streaked with the leaking essence of his lover.

 

***

 

“I don’ wanna get up,” Sherlock complained, burrowing down into the blankets and sheets.

 

It had been over an hour since they were done and while John had cleaned them up and then taken a quick and shallow nap of half hour, Sherlock had slept soundly for twice the time and still looked very much in the land of nod. His eyes were barely open and his movements uncoordinated, his freshly fucked look so tempting that John felt a bit like a caveman. He wanted to push those long pins apart and get in there again but then…..it was all about Sherlock and not him! He enjoyed being the one who doted while Sherlock loved being doted on. Perfect!

 

“Very well then, don’t get up but I sure will have to,” he said affectionately, “Dinner love, I plan to cook dinner because I am sick of takeout.” He smiled at his lover’s soft whine as he tested Sherlock’s hole. It was red still, no doubt a little raw after all the treatment it had received, but there was no tear or any other injury. The rest of Sherlock was also fine, no marks aside from a sucking bruise on his long throat. When he swung his legs over the side of the bed, Sherlock reached out feebly and grabbed his wrist, stopping him. So not totally asleep then!

 

“Okay, come and sleep on the couch then.”

“Kay….”

 

“Let me get a robe.”

 

Ten minutes later Sherlock lay on the couch, wrapped in a soft robe and then draped with a soft comforter, a cushion pushed under his head to keep him comfy. He was hovering in that stage where he was neither asleep nor awake, his fingers scratching at the surface of the blanket and his lips rubbing and touching the soft cover of the cushion. Neither of those surfaces were as comforting, as inviting as John’s chest or arms, but for now this would have to do. He liked the simple dinners that John cooked.

 

His head was miraculously clear now. His urge to use completely gone. His anger and frustration with the world melted away. His restlessness and impatience at not receiving cases more or less pushed away somewhere far off. He felt rested, loved, happy, sated and calm.

 

Yes, he felt calm, comfortable, serene.

 

Above all, he felt like he was grounded. He was safe.

 

He yawned and closed his eyes, ready for another nap.

 

He heard his lover in the kitchen, humming and singing as something boiled in a pot and the oven pinged. There were sounds like clang of cutlery, the occasional drag of a knife on the cutting board and John clearing his throat midway through singing an out of tune line from a Beatles classic. All basic and common noises in the kitchen, but which sounded like a masterpiece orchestra to Sherlock’s ears. The sounds of domesticity, the sounds of his man cooking for him, the sounds that proved John was somewhere close by.

 

And for Sherlock Holmes, that was fodder enough to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I will be on holiday for a few days so replies to comments will be delayed till the weekend. Enjoy this update :)


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